


Hopelessly Devoted To You

by NorInEnglish (Nuts)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji Is So Done, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Song Lyrics, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29610285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuts/pseuds/NorInEnglish
Summary: “Whenever you think you… ‘get on my nerve’… you can use it. A bit like a code phrase, if you will. And I’ll respond accordingly to signal that I don’t mind you all. Quite the contrary.”Akaashi risks glancing up to gauge his captain’s reaction.“It’s just like Marco Polo,” Bokuto grins, his sadness and frustration forgotten.“Yes, just like Marco Polo,”Or, Akaashi is tired of people treating him as Bokuto's babysitter.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Team friendships
Comments: 12
Kudos: 133





	Hopelessly Devoted To You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the amazing @leemht on Tiktok. Because you're the Akaashi to my Bokuto :)
> 
> It was supposed to like 500 words of fun, and it turned into an 8.6k monster instead with way too much of my headcanons becoming plot-points. Oh, well. Enjoy this.

  
  
Most people think Bokuto is a burden that was put on Akaashi’s shoulder.  
  
Those people don’t realize the wonder that Bokuto Koutarou’s existence is – to Akaashi, and to anyone else, really. Bokuto is a person like no other. He feels so much, in all different arrays of emotions.  
  
And yes, it’s true; dealing with his sadness and his frustration and his anger can be a bit much. But Akaashi is actually amazed by how Bokuto doesn’t repress or hide anything – it’s a quality that he admires in his captain, even if society disapproves of it.  
  
“Isn’t dealing with Bokuto-senpai like babysitting?” some of his classmates often comment.  
  
“Yeah, isn’t that so tiring? I’d hate it if I had to take care of an upperclassman like that,” a girl adds.  
  
“It isn’t fair that you have to deal with him outside of the club too, Akaashi-kun.”  
  
“Don’t you regret joining the volleyball’s team, Akaashi?” a boy asks, laughing mockingly, passing an arm around his shoulder like they are friends and, _oh_ , Akaashi is pissed.  
  
“I wouldn’t want to be anybody else,” he says dryly and his glare is powerful enough to make his classmate swallow and take off his arm.  
  
The conversation drifts off to something else and Akaashi just takes his lunch and leaves the classroom.  
  
*  
  
And the thing is, yes, Bokuto doesn’t compartmentalize. If he considers you as a friend, or as a kouhai, it’s not for just an aspect of life. He isn’t friendly during club hours and then ignores you when he sees you in the hallways. That’s not who he is.  
  
Onaga might have had a heart attack when Bokuto jumped on him when he spotted the first-year in between his classes the first time. Akaashi had watched in sympathy. It had happened to him too during his first year. And everybody had thought that it was a nuisance, his teacher scolded Bokuto, but Akaashi had felt all warm inside.  
  
_Bokuto wanted his company. Not just on the court. Not just for his tosses. He wanted to hang-out with him, to make him smile, to listen to his point of view o_ _n_ _things._ And wasn’t that one of the most flattering things on earth?  
  
“Hey hey hey, Akaashi, what are you smiling about?” Bokuto asks, appearing at his side as if Akaashi thinking about his captain had summoned him.  
  
“I’m not smiling about anything,” he says  
  
“Stop lyin’,” Bokuto laughs. “Do you wanna eat with me? I think Konoha and the other third-years are on the rooftop today. Wanna join them?”  
  
Akaashi looks into his bright golden eyes, shining with joy and he can’t help but smile. “Sure.”  
  
*  
  
“Where is Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks when he finishes his training exercises with the first-year setter. He hasn’t heard his captain’s loud voice in a while and, really, that should have raised suspicion earlier.  
  
“Hum,” Suzumeda starts as she helps to put some balls back into the basket. “He was doing serves drills and he landed all of them out or in the net.”  
  
Akaashi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “He is in the storage room, isn’t he?”  
  
“He is in the storage room,” Suzumeda confirms. “But actually. Someone might have commented on how difficult to deal with he is. So…. It might be bad this time. That’s why coach let him some time to breathe.”  
  
Akaashi feels his blood start to boil slowly in his veins, like it does every time someone feels untitled to make Bokuto feel bad about himself. “Who said that?” he asks casually.  
  
Unfortunately, Suzumeda sees right through it. “I’m not telling you any names. Don’t want you to murder some jealous dude who’s looking for an excuse not to put the effort in training.”  
  
“I wouldn’t do any–”  
  
Suzumeda dismisses his denial with a hand. “Besides, Konoha and Coach already chewed him out for it. Yukie-chan tried to talk to Bokuto but he asked to be left alone. So I guess he’ll only listen to you.”  
  
When Akaashi opens the storage room, he finds Bokuto folded in a corner against towels and mats and other sports equipment. He has his eyes closed and earphones in his ears. Akaashi can hear faint music and Bokuto half-heartily mumbling along with the lyrics.  
  
Figuring out which kind of song he listens to is actually pretty important in moments like this. Not many people know this, but Bokuto loves music. He has all sorts of playlists to suit his many different moods, but he usually only listen to them when he is alone or at home.  
  
When he feels sad and wants to feel better, he usually listens to _Tomorrow_ from the musical Annie on repeat.  
  
He’s not doing that right now.  
  
Akaashi carefully steps closer until he can hear Bokuto whisper lyrics Akaashi can’t quite make out. He sits down next to Bokuto, his back sliding against one cold gym mat. “Hey,” he says, and he presses his shoulder to his captain’s when he doesn’t get a reaction.  
  
Bokuto slowly opens his eyes and the music stops. “Akaashi,” he says quietly. There’s none of all the usual energy there is when Bokuto says his name.  
  
“What’s wrong, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks softly.  
  
Bokuto watches him with sad eyes for a moment, before looking down at the black fabric on the pads covering his knees. “Do you really think I’m a burden to you and to everyone on the team?”  
  
This question right there breaks Akaashi’s heart. He suddenly wants to punch every person who ever made Bokuto feels like his existence is a nuisance. He was never one for violence, but sometimes he wishes he could have been a delinquent not afraid of throwing a punch.  
  
Making Bokuto feel better is more important, though.  
  
“I have _never_ thought that, and I never will,” he says with as much force as he can.  
  
Bokuto tries to fake a smile, but he was never good at pretending. “It’s alright, I know I’m… difficult,” he says with just the faintest trace of bitterness in his voice. “It’s just–”  
  
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi cuts in. “You are not difficult. You are different from everyone else and that is not a bad thing.” He breathes in deeply to try to say things more coherently, and continues with, “It is alright to be sad sometimes. And to be angry. Just like it’s good to be happy. You never hide your feelings. You shouldn’t be ashamed about this.”  
  
It’s still not very coherent. He doesn’t really know where he was going with this. But Bokuto looks up at last, meeting his gaze. His eyes are still wet with unshed tears, his hair is also sticking down. He blinks, but he keeps staring at Akaashi like he could search his soul for lies with his eyes.  
  
Akaashi meets him without fear: he means every word he said, and so much more.  
  
“I like spending time with you, Bokuto-san,” he says for good measure.  
  
“Even when I’m like this?” Bokuto snaps.  
  
“Yes,” Akaashi responds without hesitation. “Even when you’re like this. All the time.”  
  
He doesn’t add anything else, because that would be a bit too embarrassing. But he will if he needs to. His dignity doesn’t really matter more than Bokuto’s happiness.  
  
“Really? But I’m lame like this, you can’t say I’m not.” Bokuto goes back to hide his mouth in his knee-pads, arms circled around his legs.  
  
“Well,” Akaashi says, “Maybe. A bit. You’re still Bokuto, though. And I still want to be with you.” And then, because he knows that words only have so much power, he adds: “What were you listening to?”  
  
Bokuto turns to him and looks at him, searching again. “Do you wanna listen with me?”  
  
“Yes, I would very much like that.”  
  
The third-year shyly offers him an earphone, putting the other one back in his own ear. “I’m listening to it on repeat, just so you know.”  
  
“I don’t mind.”  
  
“You’ll find it boring,” Bokuto challenges.  
  
“I won’t.”  
  
Bokuto plays the song.  
  
Akaashi closes his eyes, his shoulder still pressed against Bokuto’s, and he listens closely to the music and to the lyrics. The rhythm is soothing, he’s got to admit it, and the intense sequence with the chorus is catchy.  
  
He does wonder why it’s this song that Bokuto is fixated on today, though. Most of it speaks to Akaashi, and he doesn’t really understand what part calls to the Ace. The song talks about a devotion that Akaashi is quite familiar with. One verse makes him nearly smile for how accurate it is their current situation: _I know I'm just a fool who's willing To sit around and wait for you But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do? I'm hopelessly devoted to you._  
  
Bokuto is self-conscious about his singing abilities. He doesn’t sing especially bad, but he doesn’t sing particularly good either. He is very much average in this regard. That doesn’t bother him when he sings with Komi and Kuroo. But sometimes he sings to himself when he is studying in his room and he always blushes when he remembers that Akaashi is here. Akaashi finds that fascinating.  
  
And just like during those surprisingly quiet study sessions, some words end up escaping Bokuto’s mouth.  
  
“ _There’s nowhere to hide Since you pushed my love aside._ ”  
  
Ah, yes. Akaashi can see how Bokuto would relate to this. And so, without thinking too much about it, he responds with:  
  
“ _I’m out of my head, Hopelessly devoted to you._ ”  
  
Bokuto’s eyes fly to him, surprised, and after a second his lips curl and a soft warmth surround Akaashi’s heart at the sight of this smile.  
  
“Thanks,” Bokuto says, his eyes warming too.  
  
Akaashi smiles at him softly too.  
  
“Would you like to hit some of my tosses, Bokuto-san?”  
  
“Yeah, I’d like that.”  
  
*  
  
The letter in his shoe-locker isn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. People seem to find his expressionless face attractive – he doesn’t really understand why.  
  
The love-letters always make him feel slightly uncomfortable. He knows other guys would feel an ego-boost at having a secret admirer or something. But the letters are always from girls he never talked to, not even once, and he thinks it’s weird to fall in love with someone you don’t even know.  
  
This letter asks him to go to the rooftops after class,

so he goes. He always meets the girls who want to confess to him to properly turn them down. It’ll be inconvenient if they keep sending letters or if they start sending gifts and leaving food for him. He doesn’t like feeling stalked and he doesn’t want to have to worry about this in a part of his mind, as it happened in his first year.  
  
The girl is waiting for him. The letter says she’s a fellow second-year, but he doesn’t remember her at all from any classes. She has long hair that brushes her face in the wind as she waits for Akaashi to stop in front of her. She looks at him for a moment with chocolate brown eyes and her cheeks flushed. Akaashi would rather she gets on with it.  
  
“Akaashi-kun, I love you! Please go out with me.”  
  
She has the merit of going straight to the point, at least.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says with a bow, “but I don’t plan on going out with you. I dedicate my time outside of class to the volleyball club.”  
  
“I like watching you play volleyball!” she rushes in. “I don’t mind waiting for you to finish practice.”  
  
Yes, her letter had said so. He has never seen her at any game, though.  
  
“I most often than not stay after practice,” he insists, tired that she doesn’t respect his refusal. “And my club activities are not limited at practice.”  
  
He expects her to try a bit more to convince him – maybe say that she doesn’t need a lot of his time, or that she can wait for him. He doesn’t really understand why someone would want to date someone they are not spending any time with.  
  
But the girl doesn’t exactly do that. Her eyes narrow and her lips curl with contempt, and then she says, “Why? Because Bokuto can’t go home without walking into walls?”  
  
This makes him pause, a flare of irritation going up in his gut. First, he doesn’t like that she talks about an upperclassman without adding the proper respectful suffix. But why would she? She clearly has no respect for the third-year. And second, how could she thinks that insulting someone he respects will make him want to date her?  
  
“As a matter of fact, yes, I walk home with him,” he says dryly. “I spend time with Bokuto- _san_ because he is my friend and I enjoy his company, even outside of practice.”  
  
She waves her head, putting on a show of how what he just said saddens her. Her pity is irritating. “You don’t deserve to be treated like a babysitter, Akaashi-kun.”  
  
“I’m not a _babysitter_ ,” he snaps. “Bokuto-san is a grown person, he’s not a _child_. He does sometimes get sad easily but at least he doesn’t need to belittle others to feel better. Now if you would excuse me.” He bows and leaves without another glance at her.  
  
He arrives at practice a bit late because of all this. He changes in a hurry and steps into the court to warm up with the other.  
  
As they line up to start receiving drills, Bokuto comes up behind him, putting slowly an arm around his shoulder.  
  
“Are you alright, Akaashi?” he asks in a surprisingly low voice.  
  
The warmth of his body slowly drains Akaashi’s irritation away. “I’m alright. Why do you ask?”  
  
Bokuto shrugs, the movement moving Akaashi with him. “I don’t know, you seemed a bit pissed. And you were late too. It’s rare.”  
  
“Pissed?” Akaashi repeats. He didn’t think anything could be seen on his face. People never tend to know what he’s thinking.  
  
“Yeah you had this look, you know,” Bokuto tries to imitate whatever he thinks his look is like, half glaring into the void, half moving his head around in a bad impression of James Bond. “I just could tell,” he adds with a smile.  
  
_You could just tell_ , Akaashi thinks, a bit in a daze. His chest isn’t tight with annoyance anymore. “This is a bad imitation of me, Bokuto-san.”  
  
“What!! It’s an amazing imitation!!”  
  
“Bokuto, stop distracting our setter!” calls a voice.  
  
Bokuto turns to Sarukui and pouts. “I’m not distracting him!!”  
  
“Stop lyin’,” Komi says with a smile.  
  
The captain sticks out his tongue at them and Akaashi can’t help but let out the chuckle that comes bubbling in his chest. Bokuto turns back to him, eyes shining with pleasure, and he grins at Akaashi before running to receive the ball.  
  
Akaashi starts to run too, he plays with his teammates, sets for Bokuto and the other spikers, and the lover letter and the rude fellow second-year slip out of his mind.  
  
*  
  
Akaashi sweeps the sweat off his temple and curses internally. It’s the third time this set that Bokuto has slammed a ball out while trying to avoid the block for a straight shot. It’s not looking good. His shoulders start to hunch and his brows are furrowed. His movements are beginning to be snappy and rushed. He’s clearly getting frustrated and Akaashi senses that an emo-mode is near.  
  
As their side receives the serve, the ball gets passed to him. He jumps and sees from the corner of the eyes that Bokuto is running, but there are two men ready to block him yet another time, and Akaashi knows he has 75% of chances to be out again. And then just now, Onaga runs for a quick, with the last blocker hesitating in between him and Sarukui, so Akaashi sets to him and they score.  
  
Konoha slaps him on the back with a congratulation and Akaashi smiles at him and turns around. That’s when he sees it.  
  
Bokuto tries to repress it but Akaashi can read it perfectly; the way he breaks the eye-contact, the way his right fist closes and trembles, the way his shoulders tighten, and his hair looks like it’s falling down… He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t look at anyone either – no praise, no cry of frustration, no asking for the next set. He just goes back to his new place on the rotation, ready for the next rally.  
  
_Is it going to be OK?_ Akaashi wonders. There hasn't been any outburst of sadness or anger, like Bokuto nearly often does when he falls into emo-mode. The referee blows his whistle and Akaashi doesn’t have the time to think about it more deeply. He stops twisting his fingers and runs back to the net. He gets ready to set, looks around at his spikers and…  
  
Bokuto isn’t running.  
  
Akaashi shakes his head and sets to Konoha instead, who get blocked.  
  
The Coach asks for a time-out and Akaashi immediately walks toward his Ace.  
  
“You didn’t run for the toss, Bokuto-san?” he says, careful to keep his tone flat and not accusing.  
  
Bokuto meets his eyes for a second before looking away. “You weren’t going to set to me anyway,” he says, the bitterness in his voice almost deafening.  
  
Akaashi’s heart hurts suddenly.  
  
“Bokuto, Akaashi can’t toss to you every time, you know that,” Coach says, in a reasonable voice. “There are six people on your side of the net, and a lot of different options that we _must_ use.”  
  
“You’re still our Ace, Captain,” Komi says, clapping on Bokuto's shoulder.  
  
Bokuto nods, but then shakes his head. He’s not convinced at all.  
  
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, but the third-year still won’t look at him.  
  
His lips are moving, and Akaashi tunes out what the strategy Coach is talking about to try to hear what his Ace is saying. Faintly, he can hear: “ _-hide, since you pushed my love aside._ ” And he recognizes the song almost immediately.  
  
Bokuto is lost in his own head. How can Akaashi reach him?  
  
“I’m out of my head,” he says, in an echo of that afternoon, sat side by side with Bokuto in the storage room, “hopelessly devoted to you.”  
  
The whole team turns to him, all of them falling silent. The Coach blinks, Kohona opens his mouth like a fish and Shirofuku puts a hand in front of her face to keep from laughing. Akaashi fights fiercely the embarrassment creeping inside of him.  
  
“What-what are you saying, Akaashi?” Coach asks, obviously lost. “English?”  
  
Before Akaashi can open his mouth to apologize, a deep involuntary laugh rings in the air. Akaashi turns to Bokuto, who is shaking in laughter, his hands on his hips. All the team watches him in awe. When he stops to take a breath and finally opens his eyes, there’s a gleam of joy in there that steals Akaashi’s breath away.  
  
“Alright, alright, Akaashi!! You’re right.” He passes an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. He’s sweaty and gross but Akaashi doesn’t push him away. Bokuto’s body is still shaking a bit as he chuckles, and Akaashi can feel it through their uniform, enveloping him in a reassuring hug.  
  
“Hum,” Coach blinks. There referee signals the end of the time-out. “Uh, OK, let’s go out there and try to do what I told you.”  
  
Akaashi has no idea what Coach told them to do. But Bokuto is smiling again, and he knows they’ll be alright.  
  
*  
  
“What was that, Akaashi?” Konoha asks when Bokuto has left the locker-room after the game. “It sounded like you were confessing or something.”  
  
Akaashi puts his shirt on, then his jacket, and looks back at his senpai. He refuses to appear bothered. “It was lyrics from a song,” he explains simply.  
  
“A love song?” Sarukui pushes, his eyes curled with laughter.  
  
“A song Bokuto likes.”  
  
“Wow, you’re truly a master in Bokuto-language,” Komi says, genuinely impressed.  
  
“You should put that on your resume,” Konoha mocks good-heatedly, putting his bag on his shoulder.  
  
“My club activities already are,” Akaashi respond with more seriousness then the comment deserved. Then he adds: “But you are right, Konoha-san, I should add this line: _My four senpais where a lot to deal with, it did marvels to my adaptation and communication skills_.”  
  
“Hey, now!”  
  
“I guess we deserve that,” Sarukui laughs.  
  
*  
  
The weeks after winning that practice game are nice. The team continues to work on what they need to improve before the tournament. They are in a good mood, they laugh, eat, and hang out together.  
  
Until one night, ten minutes into their after hour practice, Bokuto swears.  
  
“Sorry, Akaashi. Can we stop there tonight? I gotta do something. I totally forgot.”  
  
Akaashi blinks as he wipes some sweat from his temple.  
  
“Do you have to study for your math make-up test?”  
  
“I

don’t need a make-up test!” Bokuto snaps at him, like he often does when Akaashi teases him about math. Then his back straightens and he rubs the back of his head as he smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, right, I have to study math.”  
  
Akaashi’s eyes narrow. OK, Bokuto is definitely not going home to study math. But Akaashi won't push. Bokuto tends to talk about things he is excited about freely. If he makes a conscious effort not to talk about it, then Akaashi can respect that. He will most likely be aware of it soon enough if it’s important (one way or another).  
  
They clean up the gym and closes things up. Then they start walking to the station, in an uncharacteristic silence.  
  
Bokuto doesn’t talk about one thing or the other, like he always does when they walk home together. He just buries his hands in his pockets and watches Akaashi. He’s not really staring per se. But whatever attracts his gaze, he always comes back to Akaashi.  
  
It’s a bit unnerving.  
  
“Is something on your mind, Bokuto-san?”  
  
Bokuto smiles sheepishly again, as his eyes look down at the sidewalks. “Nothing, really,” he says. “I just thought about how nice it is to walk home with you.”  
  
Akaashi raises a brow. He’s flattered but, “What brought this on?”  
  
Bokuto shrugs. “Nothing much. Don’t sweat it.”  
  
Then he finally smiles, although it’s not totally one of those big grins he knows the secret of. Then he starts to talk about the episode of a baseball anime that he watched yesterday and Akaashi is fooled into thinking everything is fine.  
  
*  
  
Everything is not fine. As two weeks pass, Bokuto’s behavior becomes more and more strange. There are no outward changes. But out of five afternoon-practice, they only stayed extra time for two. And on the last one, Bokuto looked frustrated, even though he was in a good mood during regular practice.  
  
He used the excuse of make-up tests and running errands for his mom and sister three times so he wouldn’t walk to the station with Akaashi. It was always very legitimate excuses, with an “I don’t want to bother you, Akaashi. Go home without me!!”  
  
Bokuto usually whines until Akaashi agrees to go to sportswear shops with him on the other side of the city. He has begged him on a memorable occasion to buy shoujo and yaoi manga for his sister. He bribes him into trying new restaurants all the time.  
  
He said, _I just thought about how nice it is to walk home with you_.  
  
  
If he likes to do all those things with Akaashi (and he does, that was never up to debate), then why would he not allow himself to have this? Akaashi can’t quite figure out a reason, even after thinking about it two nights in a row.  
  
When he thinks about it, he can also find evidence that Bokuto is avoiding him during lunch too.  
  
It’s not that rare that Bokuto doesn’t come to his classroom to ask them to eat together. He often gets distracted by a cat outside of the building, by an interesting conversation with a classmate or because he has to redo his math homework before class. But it keeps and keeps pilling up. They have eaten together two times this week, but either Konoha or Suzumeda has been the one to ask him to eat as a team.  
  
Why wouldn’t Bokuto just say something? He usually visibly pouts and grumbles when he finds something annoying or uncomfortable. He’s not one for secrecy.  
  
He wouldn’t keep something important from Akaashi, right?  
  
*  
  
Half of lunch has passed, precisely two weeks after Bokuto started acting up, when Akaashi decides that he has waited enough.  
  
Akaashi has a bad feeling about this and he can’t rationally push it away anymore.  
  
So he untangles his fingers from one another, grabs his bag and gets up.  
  
The third-years don’t really pay him any mind when he approaches Bokuto’s classroom. He picks inside and his heart clenches.  
  
Bokuto is sitting at his desk. His bento box is open and he has chopsticks in his hands. He’s looking down at his food, but he’s not eating.  
  
He seems so odd like this, alone at his desk. People are chatting happily all around him, but he’s like in his own bubble, cut out from everyone else.  
  
He looks sad.  
  
Akaashi steps into the classroom.  
  
“Bokuto-san?” he calls. “Don’t you want to eat together?”  
  
Bokuto’s eyes fly up and widen with surprise when he hears Akaashi’s voice. His body seems to inflate with happiness, and he opens his mouth, his cheeks blushing in pleasure. But then, instead of accepting and smiling, he starts to deflate and looks back down toward his untouched bento box.  
  
“I didn’t want to bother you, Akaashi,” he says in a quiet voice.  
  
Akaashi frowns. “You don’t bother me, Bokuto-san.” What on earth could have made him think that?  
  
“But don’t you want to spend lunch with your girlfriend?”  
  
Akaashi opens his mouth but the words won’t come out. He clenches his fist around the handle of his bag. “ _What girlfriend?_ ” he hisses.  
  
A few of Bokuto’s classmates turn to look at him, and Akaashi resists the urge to twist his fingers. He takes a slow breath, grabs an empty chair and sits in front of his captain’s desk.  
  
“I don’t have a girlfriend, Bokuto-san,” he says with forced calm. “I would have told you if I had.”  
  
“But this girl came to say I took too much of your time and that I should try to be more considerate. That I shouldn’t bother you outside of practice. And I mean– She wasn’t _wrong_. I–”  
  
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi interrupts, but he’s really too baffled to say anything. The girl Bokuto is talking about must be the one who confessed to him and got rejected on the rooftop nearly a month ago. And Akaashi can’t even remember her _name_ , who does she think she is to tell who can and cannot spend time with him? “She’s _definitely_ _not_ my girlfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend and I don’t want a girlfriend. I am very satisfied to spend time with you, club or no club.”  
  
“But I don’t want to bother you too much, Akaashi. I know I tend to be- _invasive_. Did I use that word right?”  
  
Akaashi’s heart twists in his chest, a bit more painfully than before. Bokuto is so earnest it hurts “You– Bokuto-san,” he says, a tad sad. “Bokuto-san, you _never_ bother me. Why don’t you want to believe me when I say that?”  
  
Bokuto smiles, but there’s no joy in it. “You’re too kind and too polite to just _say it_. And if you don’t say it, then I won’t know because I don’t think-” He passes a hand in his hair in frustration. He meets Akaashi’s eyes, and sighs. “I know I get on people’s nerves. I know it. I must get on yours too. It’s OK, I know I do. So I tried to limit it. I wanted to stop asking to stay after practice with me, but it was too much so I settle for only two days a week. And I don’t text you too often, I don’t walk back with you so you would have more time for yourself to walk with your girlfriend.”  
  
“I told you I don’t–”  
  
“Even if you don’t have one!! Sorry, I forgot. But I mean... You should have time for yourself outside of– _me_.”  
  
_Why would I want that?_ Akaashi wants to cry out. But he realizes he won’t manage to convince Bokuto just like that by arguing with him. Bokuto will have responses to everything, even if they are ridiculous to Akaashi. He has to try something else.  
  
“Do you remember our last game, Bokuto-san?” he says instead as he opens his own bento and grabs his chopsticks, very set on having lunch with his captain.  
  
Bokuto blinks at the change of subject. “–Yeah? What about it?”  
  
“You felt at one point that I did not want to set to you, remember?” Bokuto nods glumly, eyebrows frowned and hair slumping down. “You remember about the song?”Akaashi continues softly.  
  
Bokuto smiles and chuckles softly, taken in the memory of Akaashi reciting the lyrics to him during a time-out. Then he frowns again, clearly not seeing the point of this question.  
  
Akaashi takes a slice of egg-roll in between his chopsticks. “Well, we could do that.” He puts the egg-roll in his mouth and forces himself to chew and swallow.  
  
“What do you mean?” the third-year asks, brows still furrowed.  
  
“Whenever you think you… ‘get on my nerve’… you can use it. A bit like a code phrase, if you will. And I’ll respond accordingly to signal that I don’t mind you all. Quite the contrary.”  
  
He risks glancing up to gauge his captain’s reaction.  
  
“It’s just like Marco Polo,” Bokuto grins, his sadness and frustration forgotten.  
  
“Yes, just like Marco Polo,” Akaashi says with a private smile.  
  
“Nice!!” Bokuto exclaims, stealing a cherry-tomato from Akaashi’s lunch.  
  
Akaashi takes one for himself. It might be the best thing he has ever eaten.  
  
*  
  
Nonetheless, the matter needs to be dealt with. Akaashi marches to the other second-years' classes one-by-one until he finally spots the last girl who confessed to him.  
  
She meets his eyes, they widen from surprise.  
  
“Can we please talk?” Akaashi asks as soon as eye-contact has been established.  
  
Her cheeks blush from pleasure, and she nods, all shy. Akaashi finds the sight irritating.  
  
He leads her to a corner of the building near a staircase where there isn’t too much passage. The rooftops might have been quieter, but he refuses to waste his time trying to get there. And the girl might also read too much into his choice of location if he did that.  
  
“I’ll be concise,” he starts. “I–”  
  
“You’ll date me?” she cuts in, already grinning like an idiot and jumping in place.  
  
“I don’t even remember your name,” he says flatly.  
  
“Oh, I’m Kanako–”  
  
“I don’t care,” he cuts in. Her mouth closes with a sound of teeth clanking. Akaashi doesn’t let her interrupt him again. It seems he hasn’t made himself clear enough, so he’s going to change that. “Listen. You’re not my girlfriend, and you’ll never be. I am not interested in dating, as I have already told you, and especially dating people who think they can tell my _friends_ that they take too much of my time. I _want_ to spend my time with Bokuto-san. I would very much like that if you

minded your _own_ business. You are not my girlfriend, my friend, nor the manager of my time. In fact, I am very well happy with how my time is spent. Not seeing you at any point of my day.”  
  
The girl takes a step back, like he just slapped her. There might be tears in her eyes. Akaashi should probably feel bad about this but he’s _pissed_. And maybe that’s unfair that she should receive all his anger toward people treating him as Bokuto’s baby-sitter, but she went out of her way to make Bokuto feel bad about himself, so she deserves that a bit.  
  
“Now, I hope I don’t hear from you again. Thank you.” He bows slightly and leaves without glancing back at her.  
  
*  
  
That night, Akaashi and Bokuto don’t stay after regular practice either, but this time it’s because the team is going out to eat ramen all together. Akaashi still wishes they could have had this time alone together, so he would _feel_ things are back to normal, even if he already _knows_ they are.  
  
But team nights are also moments he cherishes, so he feels a bit bad about wanting to be somewhere else.  
  
“Hey, Akaashi, do you feel better?” Komi asks, zipping up his jacket as he walks next to Akaashi.  
  
“Feel better?” the second-year repeats.  
  
“Yeah!” Komi says. “You're kinda hard to read but this morning at practice you looked really preoccupied. And you and Bokuto have been kinda weird, all week.”  
  
“Ah.” So the other did pick up on the subtle change in atmosphere between him and Bokuto. “I’m sorry if we’ve inconvenienced you. We have indeed resolved the matter.”  
  
Komi smiles at him. “You’re no inconvenience, Akaashi. I like to watch over my kouhais. Wouldn’t want our setter to be struggling alone.”  
  
_Our setter_. Akaashi used to find being solely referred to as such slightly uncomfortable at the beginning. All the third-years had picked up this habit and that made him wonder if they only saw him as a setter and not as a teammate or a friend. He finally realized they did that because of how they called Bokuto “our Ace” to reassure him of his value in the team. It’s how they say, _you belong with us_.  
  
Akaashi wishes the song code-phrase will be his way of telling Bokuto, _you belong with me_.  
  
“Thank you, Komi-san. I really appreciate your concern.”  
  
“OK,” Komi grins. “I would hate for my reserved kouhai to be acting not-like-himself because of unresolved tension in the team. Especially if that would make him do things he’ll regret.”  
  
“Ooooh, are you talking about how Akaashi made a girl cry during lunch break?” Sarukui says, coming up at the other side of Akaashi, clearly unashamed that he was listening in.  
  
Akaashi opens his mouth, then closes it.  
  
“How do you know about that?” he asks.  
  
“We have our sources,” Sarukui dismiss.  
  
“You really made a girl cry?” Komi exclaims. “I didn’t believe it.”  
  
“Yeah, and now you owe me a ramen, Komi.”  
  
Akaashi resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He really shouldn’t be surprised that his senpais have bet on whether rumors about him were true or not.  
  
“I didn’t mean to make her cry, Komi-san. But we don’t know each other and she crossed several different lines.”  
  
“You don’t seem to mind people who push too far, usually,” Komi smiles.  
  
“Are you talking about Bokuto-san?”  
  
All three of them look ahead to where Konoha is arguing with a grinning Bokuto. Konoha looks annoyed, and Bokuto passes an arm around his shoulders, laughing. Konoha pushes the other third-year away, complaining about personal space.  
  
“Bokuto is the King of crossing lines. Didn’t he call you in the middle of the night on your first week in the team?”  
  
He had. He had been unable to sleep because of the excitement of having a new team and, especially, having a setter that was willing to work with him. He had gone jogging at one a.m. to burn out some of his energy and on the way, he had met a dog. Which made him wonder if Akaashi was a dog person or a cat person.  
  
They had just exchanged contact info that very day. Bokuto had insisted they needed to so they could learn more about each other and become ‘one mind’. (He got that line out of that baseball anime he likes so much).  
  
Needless to say, Akaashi hadn’t been too pleased to receive that phone call, although he now thinks back at the memory with fondness.  
  
“Bokuto is oblivious, most of the time,” Akaashi says, feeling the need to defend his captain. “He doesn’t cross lines out of malice. He is actually respectful of boundaries that are explicitly set for him. He has never called me in the middle of the night without a reason after that day.”  
  
“‘Without a reason’?” Sarukui repeats.  
  
“So you mean he has called you in the middle of the night,” Komi continues.  
  
Sometimes, Bokuto has weird nightmares he needs to talk about to be able to fall asleep again and Akaashi’s voice helps.  
  
One time, he called Akaashi about a meteor shower because the setter had told him it was a dream of his to see one. The lights of the Tokyo night sky had made it impossible for them to see anything. They still had watched the sky together, talking until morning on the phone.  
  
He had also called to be sure to be the first to wish Akaashi a happy birthday.  
  
Akaashi doesn’t want to explain any of that to his teammates. Those moments seem incredibly intimate to him.  
  
“The girl was rude and mean, I just told her I didn’t want to be associated with her,” he says instead.  
  
“Wow. You’re like a cold prince from a shoujo manga,” Sarukui whistles.  
  
“Do you read a lot of shoujo manga, Sarukui-san?” he conters.  
  
Sarukui laughs. “Dang, I wouldn’t be the one to piss you off, Akaashi.”  
  
Suddenly, Akaashi’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out, knowing his senpai wouldn’t mind.  
  
It’s a text from Bokuto.  
  
It says: _there’s nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside_.  
  
OK. Seeing the lyrics written is a bit embarrassing. But on the other hand, Akaashi is glad Bokuto decided to follow his suggestion.  
  
He looks up to watch his senpai’s back. Bokuto isn’t arguing with Konoha anymore. His head is bowed, he’s most likely looking at the phone in his hands. He doesn’t seem to be typing or anything.  
  
Akaashi hurriedly sends the reply Bokuto is clearly waiting.  
  
The next wave of embarrassment doesn’t hit until the message is already sent. Devotion is such a strong word. Singing it in the guise of a song is fine, but writing it, with no melody to diminish its meaning is a bit much for Akaashi’s heart. But he doesn’t regret sending it. Not if it can reassure Bokuto.  
  
_What’s wrong, Bokuto-san?_ Akaashi asks.  
  
_I_ _just_ _wanted to know if you would like to sit beside me at the ramen shop._  
  
Akaashi is once again split between different feelings. He finds the message in itself endearing. But the fact that Bokuto is now so self-conscious that he feels the need to ask beforehand… It makes Akaashi sad, and angry.  
  
He puts his phone back into his pocket and picks up the pace so he can catch up with Bokuto, Konoha and Shirofuku.  
  
“Bokuto-san,” he says firmly. Bokuto just has the time to flinch and turn to meet his eyes. “Would you like to sit beside me when we eat?”  
  
The smile Bokuto offers him is worth the looks and smirks of their teammates.  
  
*  
  
Words have gotten around the school that Akaashi made a girl cry for confessing to him. It’s not really what happened, it kinda makes him a bit the bad guy of the story. But since it made the numbers of confessions he receives dropped, he doesn’t really mind.  
  
Bokuto is easing back into their old habits, of asking for extra tosses, walking home together, sending texts about various things. They’ve even studied a Saturday afternoon at Bokuto’s place.  
  
There are still times when Bokuto seems to be holding back. It’s frustrating that one conversation of a girl that has no importance in either of their lives could have so many consequences.  
  
*  
  
“Yo, Akaashi!”  
  
The second-year puts the notebooks down on his teacher’s desk and turns to the door where the voice comes from. Konoha is standing there, only half of his body visible in the doorway.  
  
“You’re kinda hard to find, men.”  
  
“You are looking for me, Konoha-san?” Akaashi asks as he approaches his senpai. “Is the team eating together today?”  
  
“Yeah, no, I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. Have you finished here?”  
  
“Alright, just let’s go back to the classroom so I can grab my lunch. Bokuto-san might also be there for lunch.”  
  
Konoha doesn’t look at him when he says: “No, Shirofuku and Suzumeda are keeping him busy.”  
  
Akaashi raises his brows. So Konoha wants to talk to him about Bokuto, or about something he doesn’t want Bokuto to know.  
  
They settle in a staircase near the first-years classrooms so the chances of Bokuto finding them is small. They sit side by side on a step, their lunch on their laps. Akaashi is very aware of the weight of his cellphone in his pocket. He doesn’t know what he should do if Bokuto sends him a text asking where he is. He doesn’t want to lie.  
  
_You’ll just say you’re eating with a friend today. That’s not a lie._  
  
“So, I’m gonna go straight to the point,” Konoha says as he opens the lunch box painted with foxes the team got him for his birthday. “Bokuto’s being weird.”  
  
Akaashi resists the urge to frown. “Can you be more specific, Konoha-san?”  
  
“It’s like, his self-confidence is kinda low these days? I mean he always had his ups and downs, but it’s more subtle than that recently. Especially when people mention you. I mean, people have always kinda considered you as–”  
  
“Bokuto-san’s baby-sitter?” Akaashi finishes harshly, unable to restrain his frustration.  
  
Konoha glance back at him, gauging his kouhai’s reaction as he munches on an egg-roll. “You don’t like it,” he says, in a matter-of-fact manner.  
  
“We are teammates,” Akaashi says, clenching his lunch box in his hands. “We are _friends_. I find it irritating that they think our relationship is so unbalanced. Like it’s a job I’m forced to do. I hate that.”  
  
There’s a second of silence, before: “You’re Bokuto’s best friend you know.”  
  
Akaashi looks up, swallowing. He tries to push back the butterflies dancing in his stomachs. Hearing this from someone else makes it seem more real, like it’s not just something he wants to be real.  
  
“Bokuto-san gets along with everyone,” he says, so he won’t get too full of himself.  
  
Konoha scoffs. “Yeah, he does. But he likes you best. And don’t try to mention Kuroo, he loves the guys but you’re his _favorite_.”  
  
Akaashi proceeds to close his mouth and to _not_ mention Kuroo Tetsurou, making the third-year laugh.  
  
Konoha sobers up as someone passes in front of them to go down the stairs. They both watch the person leave in silence.  
  
Konoha sighs. “Let’s go back to our problem. I guess you have tried to reassure him? With that weird English sentences game you two have. Does it work?”  
  
“I- am not sure…” Akaashi admits. “It seems to work on the moment. But it comes back.”  
  
“You know what caused it?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Konoha tilts his head, his eyebrow raised. “Care to elaborate?”  
  
Akaashi doesn’t. “I have already dealt with her.”  
  
“Her, uh? Is it related to the girl you made cry a while back?” the third year asks, pointing at him with his chopsticks.  
  
Akaashi cruses the perceptiveness of his senpai.  
  
“I see,” Konoha says, grabbing an onigiri and biting into it. “Did you tell her you’d rather date Bokuto?”  
  
Akaashi’s eyes widen and he freezes. Konoha smirks at him, and he poorly attempts to hide it in his rice.  
  
“I would have cried too if you had told me that.”  
  
“Senpai–”  
  
“It’s OK, Akaashi,” Konoha says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We know he’s your favorite too.”  
  
Akaashi blesses his expressionless face for once. He hopes he’s not blushing.  
  
“OK,” Konoha says as he slaps Akaashi’s back for good measure, “me and the guys are gonna be careful about what people said about you. Keep cheering him up. You’ll manage to make him doubt himself less. Now eat, Akaashi. You think I didn’t notice you didn’t even open that box.”  
  
*  
  
Akaashi is walking into a corridor with a classmate the next day, when he sees Bokuto outside the building, on the running field, most likely in the middle of gym class.  
  
It’s weird to see Bokuto running in the school gym uniform, and not in his practice clothes or his volleyball uniform, Akaashi thinks as he leans over the edge of the open window.  
  
“Akaashi-kun, what are you– oh it’s Bokuto-senpai.”  
  
Bokuto crosses the final line of the run and laughs. He laughs so loudly that Akaashi can hear him from the second floor.  
  
“Did you know that Bokuto-senpai is the one who started the fire alarm last week?” his classmate says. “What an airhead. Oh, but you must know that. You’re in the volleyball club together.”  
  
Bokuto did indeed start the fire alarm last week, so Akaashi can’t really chide his classmate, although he can’t help to feel annoyed by the comment. His classmate was glad the fire alarm disturbed the class when it happened, and now he’s about to complain?  
  
Another laugh attracts his attention. He looks out the window and catches Bokuto’s gaze.  
  
Things fade. His classmate next to him, the need to go back to his classroom, the distance separating them. Bokuto smiles and Akaashi smiles back.  
  
Bokuto opens his mouth, waving his arm in big gestures, and then something changes. He seems to slow down, his arm freezing in the air before slowly coming back down. Bokuto’s smile dims a little, his mouth still half-open.  
  
He doesn’t say Akaashi’s name like he should have done as soon as he saw him. Like he would have done, more than a month ago.  
  
_Why isn’t he calling out?_ Akaashi wonders worryingly, but he actually already knows the answer to that. There are a lot of people outside of the building, and inside too. If Bokuto were to call out to Akaashi right now, all of the school would be watching.  
  
He would be a bother.  
  
“He doesn’t want to embarrass me,” Akaashi mutters, his stomach dropping as he thinks back to his conversation with Konoha.  
  
“What did you say, Akaashi-kun?” his classmate asks, but it’s like background noise.  
  
Volleyball is a great sport to develop instinct and quick decision-making skills. Before he can get any second thoughts, Akaashi’s lungs expand from all the air he’s inhaling, his hands plant themselves on the windowsill and he starts to scream with all his might:  
  
“ _THERE’S NOWHERE TO HIDE, SINCE YOU PUSHED MY LOVE ASIDE_.”  
  
There’s a dead silence after his words stop echoing, only disturbed by Akaashi’s harsh breaths. His head feels dizzy from yelling, but he still needs to look down to spot Bokuto’s reaction.  
  
The third-year just stands there for long seconds during which Akaashi thinks he’s going to faint.  
  
“Akaashi-kun, what– why–”  
  
His blood starts to run cold in his veins. It’s like time is stretching out. His eyes start to burn and he hates it. He hates the feeling of embarrassment and rejection that’s starting to creep up from his gut to his throat.  
  
Just as his legs threaten to give out, he can hear it: “I’M OUT OF MY HEAD, HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU, AKAASHI!!!”  
  
Akaashi’s legs do give out then, but his heart is beating so fast in his chest, keeping him alive. His face has never been so hot, even during the most intense of volleyball games, and he finds himself laughing uncontrollably.  
  
He feels so happy he doesn’t even care when his teacher comes to reprimand him for being a nuisance. It’s like he’s on a cloud.  
  
“It’s not like you to cause trouble, Akaashi,” his teacher says.  
  
_Trouble?_ Akaashi thinks. _It was no trouble at all._  
  
“Do you find it funny?”  
  
“No, sir.”  
  
“Then wipe that smile off your face,” his teacher snaps. “We expect this behavior from Bokuto Koutarou, but not from someone respectable like you.”  
  
That makes Akaashi’s smile disappear. He really wishes people will stop to say idiot crap like this.  
  
He meets his homeroom teacher’s eyes dead on and bites his tongue. His teacher wouldn’t understand that Bokuto is a better person than he could ever be. But it’s OK. Akaashi won’t ever let Bokuto believe that what all those bland people think.  
  
*  
  
“So, Akaashi,” Konoha says, pass an arm around his shoulder – which is a rare thing he only does when he wants to tease underclassmen he’s comfortable with, “did you get in trouble?”  
  
“Uh? Why would Akaashi get in trouble?” Coach blinks.  
  
“You didn’t hear, Coach?” Konoha smirks.  
  
“Those two lovebirds here made a nuisance of themselves screaming their love at each other in front of the whole school. You really didn’t hear?” Komi adds helpfully after gulping down half of his bottle of water.  
  
“Lo-lovebirds,” Bokuto repeats, his cheeks get red – a fascinating sight.  
  
“Legend has it the whole world heard,” Shirofuku continues.  
  
_Good,_ Akaashi thinks as he drinks a mouthful of his own water. _It’s good if the whole world knows how I feel._  
  
He meets Bokuto’s eyes, and blinks slowly. Bokuto blinks too, and then smiles, then grins, all embarrassment forgotten.  
  
“Let’s start training!!” he exclaims. “I feel like I could score one thousand spikes!!”  
  
“Please be considerate, Bokuto-san, my arms would definitely fall off for this many tosses.”  
  
“Hm. OK. How about five hundred?”  
  
“That seems reasonable.”  
  
“Five hundred is still way too much, the fuck?!” Konoha yelps.  
  
*  
  
“Hey, Akaashi. That was pretty cool, what you did earlier.”  
  
Bokuto is especially beautiful at this hour, with the last light of the sun reflecting in them.  
  
“You mean that back toss? I tried to do what that setter from Inarizaki did.”  
  
“Not the toss!! Although that was cool too. I mean this afternoon, when you used our code.”  
  
Akaashi stops walking, snuggling Bokuto’s just slightly too big jacket. “Sometimes I feel insecure too.”  
  
Bokuto stops walking too. The moment feels quite intimate – them standing on a quiet sidewalk, just a few meters apart, looking at each other like they could that for hours, half-unspoken words between them.  
  
“You could have told me it sounded so much like a confession,” Bokuto says, looking down at Akaashi’s hands that are buried in his pockets.  
  
“It does come from a love song, Bokuto-san.”  
  
Akaashi takes out his hand. Bokuto leans in to grab one slowly.  
  
“And besides,” Akaashi continues, feeling as brave as he does when Bokuto comes out of an emo-mode during a game, “it was a bit of a confession.”  
  
Bokuto’s eyes meet his, and he immediately blushes. A laugh bubbles out of his chest, one happy melody Akaashi would like to listen to forever.  
  
“Guess you really don’t have a girlfriend, then?” Bokuto chuckles.  
  
“No,” Akaashi says, squeezing his captain’s hand tenderly. “But I might have a boyfriend soon. So if you wanted to kiss me you might want to do it now.”  
  
Bokuto laughs again. “So bossy.”  
  
The hand that isn’t holding Akaashi’s comes up to brush a curl away from his forehead shyly. Bokuto’s thumb brushes Akaashi’s cheek, his jaw and his throat before settling on his neck meets his shoulder. His head approaches Akaashi’s slowly, their noses nearly touching as they breathe in and out in anticipation.  
  
Akaashi tilts his head back and Bokuto touching their lips together. Akaashi presses in to kiss him again and again and again, feeling Bokuto’s smile against him like a blessing.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_Bonus_ _:_  
  
“Isn’t it tiring to be, like, Bokuto-senpai’s babysitter?”  
  
“I’m his boyfriend, actually,” Akaashi responds, staring unblinkingly at the person talking to him.  
  
Watching their face go through thirty-six states of shock might be his new favorite pastime. Having the chance to call himself Bokuto Koutarou’s boyfriend – it’s a privilege he’ll never get tired of.


End file.
